


Enemy Tolerated

by Durendal



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Galactic Civil War, Gen, Gilligan's Island AU according to my friend, Imperial pilot, Rebel pilot - Freeform, rebellion era
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-19
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-21 14:40:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6055294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durendal/pseuds/Durendal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you're sitting on a rock in the middle of the ocean with an enemy pilot, there's not much to do but talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

0 ABY

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen this situation before, in a holofilm.”

“This set-up does seem familiar, yes.” 

They sat on opposite ends of the rock, facing away from each other. The rock was the only spit of land in eyesight, a vast ocean completely surrounded them. Somewhere in the depths were their ships, they had shot each other down. On one end of the boulder sat a TIE fighter pilot, clad in the standard black flight suit. His helmet was atypical however, it appeared to be modelled after the helmets worn by stealth fighter pilots worn during the Clone Wars. On the other, a young woman wearing orange gear. Embossed on her helmet was the symbol of the Rebel Alliance, the firebird. 

The Rebel turned to the TIE pilot “It’s Chessa, by the way.”

The Imperial didn’t immediately reply, and when he did, he did not face her “D, dash three-two-seven, dash one.”

Chessa snorted “Cute, but you know that’s not what I meant.”

Another pause “Uster.”

“There, now was that so hard?” 

That time, Uster didn’t answer.

“You know, you can take your helmet off. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m breathing fine, not choking on poisonous gasses or anything.” She took several deep breaths to demonstrate “See? Totally fine.”

“Can’t take it off.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because it’s not just a flight suit, it’s also a life-support suit.” Uster replied “I was shot down on my first deployment.”

Chessa winced “Ah, I’m sorry. One of ours?”

Uster shook his head “Friendly fire. Idiot wingman wasn’t watching where he was shooting.” 

“I can see the Empire picks only its best to fly.” Chessa said drily. 

“At least we don’t use children as pilots,” Uster bit back.

“I’m eighteen, that’s an adult on most worlds.”

“Barely.”

“Well, how old were you when you started flying?” Chessa asked.

Again, silence, although Chessa could practically feel the irritation radiating from Uster. She decided to try something else.

“So, not that I don’t appreciate it or anything, but why didn’t you shoot me when you landed?”

Uster shrugged “Seemed unsporting to shoot a downed pilot. Like shooting a sleeping enemy. I kill you, it’s going to be from the cockpit.”

“You lost your blaster when you crashed, didn’t you?” She asked, smirking.

To that, Uster said nothing. Alright, probably not helping his mood, Chessa thought.

After a long pause, she said “For what it’s worth, you’re the best pilot I’ve ever seen.”

“You have some skill, but your performance is very slipshod. You need more training.”

Chessa sighed and shrugged “Fine, I’ll take that.”

“Don’t mistake criticism for insult. It’s how we improve.”

“Sorry. I guess I could stand to put some more hours in the flight-sim when we get out of this.”

“You ever start fighting for the right side, I’d be happy to train you.”

Chessa laughed “Funny, I was going to say the same to you.”

After that, they lapsed back into silence. It was noticeably less tense than before.


	2. Chapter 2

“So…where are you from?”

“Eres.”

Chessa chewed her lower lip and searched her memory “Sounds familiar, but I can’t quite place it.” She shook her head “Anyway, I’m from Onderon.”

“Onderon, huh? Well then, we have something in common.”

Chessa turned to Uster and tilted her head “Yeah? What’s that?”

“Both of our worlds were ravaged during the Mandalorian Wars. They set fire to our xoxin fields, and they claimed your moon as their territory,” Uster said.

“Burning fields seems like kind of a lesser crime there,” Chessa replied.

“The fires burned for decades afterwards.” 

Chessa winced “Ah, sorry. But you know, that did happen almost four-thousand years ago. Are you really still bitter over such an old grudge?”

Uster paused to consider it “No, I suppose not. Still, it’s hard to forget.”

“You know, I met some Mandalorians once, they seemed like okay guys. Plus, one of my squadmates is a Mandalorian.”

Uster snorted “I’m so sorry.”

“Ah, you get used to her.”

They lapsed back into silence. 

After a moment, Uster spoke again “So, what did you do on Onderon? Before you joined the Rebellion?”

That time, Chessa paused before answering “My family owned some land, we raised nerfs. My father taught me how to pilot a Skyhopper.”

“So, you made the jump from airspeeder to X-Wing?” 

“That’s right. They’re not so different, you know. Cockpit and controls? Very similar.”

Chessa took off her helmet. Her brown hair was tied back into a ponytail, which she promptly undid and shook free. “So, what did you do on Eres?”

“Worked in the fields. Not something I wanted to do though. I always wanted to be a pilot.”

“Yeah? Why was that?”

Uster didn’t immediately reply. Instead, he reached into a pouch on his uniform, fished out a small chip and tossed it to Chessa. “Because of him.”

Chessa paused to examine the device. It was a tradechip, people collected them. They usually depicted sports stars or podracer pilots. Chessa activated the chip, and a small, flickering hologram came into existence. Chessa tilted her head in surprise.

“Plo Koon?” 

Uster nodded “Yeah, Plo Koon. When I was a kid, my town was constantly under attack from pirates. They stole and they murdered, everyone was scared. And then one day, he flew into town in his ship. His starfighter was gorgeous, the Delta-6 Sprite class starfighter. He dealt with the pirates, the survivors never troubled us again.”

Chessa shrugged “Well, the Jedi were before my time, but he sounds like quite the guy.”

Uster nodded “Quite. He came back during the Clone Wars, him and his niece. Saved us again from the Separatists. They were…good people.”

“An Imperial admitting that the Jedi were good? Wow, never thought I’d hear that.” Chessa said with a laugh. 

“We’re not all alike, you know. We’re not all zealots. We’re not all…” Uster stopped, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer “We’re not all blind to what the Empire has done.” 

Chessa inched her way closer to Uster, a confused look on his face “So, why fight for the Empire then?” 

“The Galaxy needs order. The Empire provides it.”

“Yeah, and slavery and genocide, can’t forget that.”

“But that can be changed. What the Empire needs is someone who can control it and not succumb to corruption or cruelty. Someone who will do the right thing.” Uster’s hands were clenched into fists.

Chessa snorted “Somehow I doubt Palpatine’s planning on retiring anytime soon.”

“He’ll die someday. Someday soon,” Uster whispered. 

Chessa shot him a curious look “What do you mean by that?”

User shook his head “Nothing. Just that he’s an old man.”

Chessa was not convinced. 

Uster was only dimly aware that Chessa was sitting down beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is no longer a oneshot.


	3. Chapter 3

“Any family?”

“I have a little sister. Her name is Dawn.”

Chessa handed Uster a holoprojector. The image that sprang to life showed a girl who couldn’t have been more than 15. Her hair was dark, darker than Chessa’s and she had a headband tied around her forehead. She seemed...sad, somehow. Her eyes were wide and cast down and she seemed to be shrinking back. 

“So, is she back on Onderon with your parents?”

Chessa let out a short, humourless laugh “No, she’s not. My parents are dead.”

Uster winced “I’m sorry. How…?”

Chessa tilted her head in Uster’s direction “I think you know the answer to that, don’t you?”

Uster looked down at his hands, before he whispered: “Yes, I guess I do. I’m sorry.”

Chessa shrugged “Wasn’t you. The ones who did it are all dead.”

“You?”

“The rebel my parents were sheltering killed most of them. I got the last one.”

“How old were you?” Uster asked hesitantly.

“Sixteen.”

Uster sighed and closed his eyes “Kriff. I…I’m so…kriff.” Uster was quiet for almost a minute before he spoke again “You shouldn’t have had to go through that.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m the only one who’s suffered under the Empire. You should meet my friends, most of them have lost someone,” Chessa said, her voice bitter. She closed her eyes for a moment, before letting out a breath “So, what about you? Siblings?”

“I’m an only child.”

“Parents?”

“Alive, back home.”

“Wife?”

Uster paused “Next question.”

Evidently, Chessa had no more questions, and they sat there, not speaking for several minutes. 

It was Chessa who eventually broke it “So, I think we’ve kind of been ignoring a big issue here,” Chessa said.

“Yes? And what issue would that be?”

“The issue of what happens when we get picked up.”

“Ah, yes, that issue. Well, I suppose that depends on who rescues us.”

“You know, if my squadmates find me first, I promise you’ll be treated fairly. No torture, pinky promise.”

“How very reassuring.” Uster said, drily. 

Chessa seemed to consider her words for a moment before she spoke “You know, you could always join up with us?” She suggested hopefully.

There was a long period of silence before Uster made his reply “I don’t think that will happen.”

“Why not?”

“I have…certain duties. To fulfil them, I need to stay with the Empire. It’s very important that I do,” Uster explained.

Chessa crossed her arms “You’re not going to tell me what they are, are you?”

“It’s better that you don’t know.”

Chessa sighed, threw up her arms and went quiet. 

“You know, there is another thing to consider,” Uster said.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

“The possibility that we don’t get picked up.”

Chessa frowned “Kriff.”


	4. Chapter 4

Chessa paced up and down the rock. It was somewhat difficult for her, given the uneasy terrain and the fact that the rock was so small. That she had not gotten dizzy or fallen over left Uster somewhat impressed.

“Nothing to burn, can’t light a signal fire. Don’t even know if there’d be any ships to see it anyway.” Chessa frowned and placed a hand over her mouth “Kriff.”

“You should stop, you’re just wasting energy.”

Chessa paused, then went back to her side of the rock. She looked around for a moment, before she pulled out a blue ration kit. She walked back to Uster and sat down beside him, opening the kit and inspecting the contents. 

“So, I have a few ration bars.” Chessa bit into one and grimaced “Which taste awful, by the way. What have you got?”

Beneath his helmet, Uster rolled his eyes “Well, ignoring the fact that I require IV drips, the Empire doesn’t give our emergency supplies to TIE pilots. We’re typically not expected to survive crashes.”

Chessa snorted “It’s nice to know that they care.”

“Well, that’s something you come to expect when you hand out fighters that don’t come with shields.”

“Great plan, by the way. That decision wasn’t poorly thought out or anything.” 

“At the time, quantity over quality seemed like a good idea.”

“And it’s been working out real well…for us.”

Uster shot Chessa a look that she was sure was a glare. The helmet made it difficult to tell, but she could feel the irritation roll off of him in waves. 

“Moving on…any ideas on how we’re gonna get off this rock?” Chessa asked as she took another bite of the ration bar. 

“There doesn’t seem to be much that we can do.”

Chessa snorted “You are so defeatist.”

“I’m a realist.” 

“I think you’re-Hey!” Chessa exclaimed as a bird swooped down and snatched the food out of her hand.

They looked up. A flock of birds was swarming overhead. 

“Birds. We might be reasonably close to land,” Uster said.

Chessa whistled and held out her arm. After a moment, one of the flock flew down and perched on Chessa’s arm.

Uster stared at Chessa in wonder “How…?”

“I’m very good with animals. Always have been,” Chessa replied as she petted the bird.

Uster held his gaze on her for a minute. That was…interesting.

“Hey, you don’t have any flimsi and a pen, do you?” Chessa asked, the bird still on her arm.

Uster’s gaze flicked between Chessa and the bird “You can’t be serious.”

“Hey, do you have a plan?” 

“Why would I have flimsi and a pen? I don’t even have rations, why would I have those?”

Chessa threw her arms up “Well, I don’t know! For all I know, they could be giving you death sticks and stuffed banthas!” 

As the two settled back into silence, the bird flew off and re-joined its flock, which started to move away. 

“Well, there goes that plan,” Uster said, looking up.

Chessa shrugged “Probably wouldn’t have worked anyway. Message via bird. Crazy.”

“Still, at least you had an idea.” 

“Eh, I’m sure you’ll come up with something. Hopefully before I have to eat another one of these things.” Chessa motioned to her ration bars.

Chessa didn’t notice Uster staring at the food.


	5. Chapter 5

“Sun’s going down. Starting to look like rescue isn’t coming,” Chessa said as she stared into the horizon.

“It would seem that way, yes,” Uster said.

Chessa frowned at him “You’re not worried at all?”

Uster shrugged “No point in getting worked up over it. Not terribly productive.”

“You know, at this point, I’m starting to wonder if you have emotions.”

Uster bristled at that, and Chessa regretted saying it.

“I’m…sorry, that was out of line.”

“You’re not the first person to say something like that. And it’s not like I never heard that before my accident.” Uster did not look at her as he spoke. 

That was all he said, and Chessa did not want to press him further. They went back into one of their usual semi-comfortable silences. 

The sun finally set, and with it, the temperature dropped. Chessa supressed a shiver and rubbed her arms. She glanced at Uster, who seemed completely fine.

“Aren’t you cold at least?”

“The suit has temperature regulation. I’m quite fine.”

“Of course you are,” Chessa grumbled. “Stupid cold.”

There was a long pause, and when Uster broke it, he sounded very reluctant to do so “There is a solution…”

“No.” Chessa said firmly.

“It’s that, or risk hypothermia.”

Chessa growled and rubber her arms harder. After a moment, she sighed and shifted closer to Uster. Huddling for warmth with an Imperial was not at all how she imagined she’d be ending her day when she guided her ship from the Thunder Child’s hangar bay. So much for a simple hit and run op, Chessa thought.

“Don’t get any ideas, you’re…wait, how old are you?”

“Twenty-nine.”

“Eleven years my senior.” She paused, thinking “Hey, remember when I said this whole thing was like a holofilm?”

“Yes?”

“Starting to look more and more like it as things go on.” 

“It would seem that way, yes.” He sighed and threw his head back.

After that, more silence. Eventually, they drifted into sleep.

When Uster woke up, Chessa was still sound asleep. She was leaning on his shoulder, and, to his dismay, was drooling all over it. He sighed. This definitely wasn’t how he had thought things would turn out yesterday, when he had guided his TIE out of the Goliath’s hangar bay. 

Things are never as simple as we want them to be, he thought, resisting the urge to shove Chessa off his shoulder and wipe away the saliva. Uster took out his Plo Koon tradechip and idly danced it between his fingers. He wondered if he should tell her about his…organisation. Why not? He had already hinted it to her, and he hadn’t been particularly subtle. It was tempting, she was a good kid, and a very good pilot, they could use people like her. 

Eventually, he shook his head. No, she would never go for it, she was too loyal to the Rebellion, she would never jump ship. Uster sighed, Shame, he thought, and then he bucked his shoulder and sent Chessa sprawling to the ground. 

“What the kriff?!”

Uster smirked as he wiped the spittle off of his shoulder.


	6. Chapter 6

“You’re an ass,” Chessa muttered, glowering at Uster.

“You were drooling on my shoulder, and you were snoring,” Uster said, not a hint of remorse in his voice.

Chessa was indignant, to say the least “I do not snore!” She snapped.

Uster shrugged “I know what I heard.”

Chessa pulled a face at him. He stared impassively back. At least, that’s what Chessa assumed he was doing, the helmet made it so hard to tell. For all she knew, he was making faces right back. Eventually, Chessa sighed and sat down on the rock, staring out at the ocean. 

“So, any ideas on how we get out of this?” She did not turn to face him as she spoke, she just kept her eyes locked on the horizon.

“Regrettably, no,” Uster said, seating himself down next to her. 

“Damn,” was all she said, then she lapsed into silence. Her face was furrowed in thought, and she rested her head in her right hand.

Uster frowned, Chessa seemed distant and surly, a marked difference from yesterday. It was a little troubling, and he was worried for her. He needed to find something to distract her. 

He spied a flash of red poking out from underneath the glove on her right hand “What’s that?” He asked, pointing it out.

Chessa looked down “Oh, tattoo.” She pulled the glove off and showed him the back of her hand. Marked on the back of her wrist was a red, three-peaked mountain. In a sudden reversal of her previous mood, she flashed Uster a pleased grin. 

Uster leaned in closer to examine it “It’s…nice. What is it?” 

Chessa shot him an unimpressed look, as if the answer was obvious “It’s the symbol of the Onderronian Resistance. Y’know, from the Clone Wars?” 

Uster nodded “Ah. Yes, I remember hearing of them. Though, I think you’re a little young to have been a member.”

“Well, I am, yeah, but my aunt was in it,” Chessa said, proudly “I even have her uniform!” 

“Very impressive.”

“What about you? Did any of your family serve in the Clone Wars?” Chessa asked.

Uster shook his head “Can’t say that they did. My family kept our heads down, stuck to farming.”

The two settled back into silence, but the mood was notably lighter than what it had been before. Uster nodded to himself, pleased. 

“Wait, is that a boat?” Chessa stood bolt upright, her eyes wide and staring off into the distance.

Uster followed her gaze, and sure enough, there was a boat sailing in the distance. From the looks of it, a simple fishing boat, probably only crewed by a small handful of beings. It wasn’t much, but it was a prospective rescue vehicle. It was a ways off, but if the two of them could get its attention somehow…

“Do you have a flare gun? A blaster pistol? Anything?” Chessa asked, grabbing onto Uster’s arm.

Uster was surprised, he had thought that the Rebel pilots would have been better equipped. Especially after Chessa’s earlier digs “Don’t you?”

Chessa suddenly looked embarrassed. Her face went red and she turned her gaze down to her feet “I…lost it when I crashed.”

Uster tilted his head down at her.

“Don’t you say a kriffing word!” Chessa hissed, jabbing him in the chest with one finger. 

Uster rolled his eyes “Unbelievable,” he muttered as he unholstered his sidearm and held it out to her. 

Chessa shot him a look, before taking the offered blaster. She raised the pistol to the sky and fired three times.

“Think they heard that?” 

“There’s no wind, no noise, they might have,” Uster said with a shrug. 

“Maybe if we jump up and down and yell?” Chessa suggested.

“You’re welcome to try.”

Chessa glared at him “You want to keep your pride, or do you want to get off this rock?”

Uster was silent for a moment “Hard to say.”

If at all possible, Chessa’s glare intensified “Need I remind you that I’m holding your blaster?”

Uster sighed.

“Hey! Hey!”

“Over here!” 

“Rescue us, dammit!” 

They kept at it for a solid minute, before resting.

“You think they saw that?” Chessa asked, looking at User, her eyes wide and hopeful.

“We can only hope…”

And then, the boat began to turn towards them.


	7. Chapter 7

Chessa was leaning over the deck’s railing, retching noisily. Uster hesitantly patted her on the back, and Chessa spat into the ocean.

“I hate the sea,” Chessa said shakily, not looking up at Uster.

They were fortunate, they had been picked up by a Duros-crewed fishing vessel. The crew had given them odd stares when the two had embarked, and Uster could hardly blame them. A TIE pilot and a Rebel pilot certainly made for an odd pair. More than that, most of the crew had looked shocked, even scared when they had laid eyes on him. One even began to mouth a name that Uster was all too familiar with.

“Vader.” He had started, before catching himself and hurrying off. 

It was an uncomfortably common occurrence. Between his atypical helmet and the noises that his suit made, he had often been mistake for the Emperor’s enforcer. Almost never amongst his fellow Imperials, but a number of civillians taking quick glances at him had made that error.

But then…given some of the acts that he had committed over the years, in the name of the Empire, perhaps the comparisons weren’t unfounded. He regretted them, of course he regretted them. How could he not? Towns and unarmed transports, wiped out in the blink of an eye. He told himself that it was necessary to follow orders, that he could not afford to disobey. But did that really excuse it?

He had lost himself in thought, until the captain of the vessel stepped forward to talk to Uster and Chessa. Uster was grateful for the interruption. 

Fortunately, he and the captain had come to an understanding when Uster slipped him a cred-chip. Safe passage to the nearest port, no questions asked and no memory of picking him and Chessa up if questioned. 

From beside him, Chessa had raised an eyebrow “So, they don’t give you guys rations, but they do give you emergency bribe money?” 

Uster had simply glanced at her and shrugged. Chessa had quirked her mouth into a puzzled frown at that, but had not pressed him. He had been concerned that she may have raised more questions later. Fortunately for him, her seasickness had set in, and questions seemed to be the last thing on her mind. Not that he could blame her, he was sure that if he were in her situation, he would have suspended any queries he might have had. 

“I mean, why do people even bother with boats anyway?” Chessa said as she slowly, uneasily stood up “With air travel, it’s totally redundant.”

Uster noticed one of the Duros roll his bulbous, crimson eyes as he walked past. 

“Fishing, for one,” Uster replied, glad that no one could see the smirk that was forming. He was glad for Chessa’s company, she was proving to be a welcome distraction from his own thoughts. 

“Ugh, kriff fish,” Chessa muttered at a barely audible level. Slowly, hesitantly, she hoisted herself into an upright position and looked upward. 

The sky overhead was grey and overcast. It seemed as if it would rain at any minute, and Uster was suddenly thankful that they had been rescued when they had. Being stranded on a rock in the ocean was bad enough, but being stranded on a rock in the ocean during a downpour? And that was if it was only rain, they would have been helpless if this were a storm. Uster paused, suddenly he was very thankful for the boat. 

Especially since it was at that moment that the downpour began. Chessa lowered her head again as the heavy rain drenched the pair, plastering her long brown hair to her face. 

“I hate the sea.”

“Come on, better get into cover,” Uster said, grabbing Chessa’s arm to steady her. The deck rolled as the waves struck the side of the boat, and Chessa groaned. 

The two found a bench situated under a canvas canopy and sat there. They had only been out in the rain for a short time, but they were drenched. They both sat there, arms wrapped around their bodies, trying to regain some warmth. Besides Uster, Chessa started to shiver and her teeth began to chatter.

There was a long pause before Uster spoke up “I’m going to suggest something that you’re not going to like…again.”

“No! No way!” Chessa snapped, shooting him glare.

“Do you want to get hypothermia? You’re soaked,” Uster pointed out.

Chessa grit her teeth “Well, this situation just keeps getting more and more awkward, doesn’t it?”

“It’s not as if I’m enjoying this, you know,” Uster grumbled, folding his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chessa muttered, rolling her eyes as she unzipped her orange flight-suit and slid it off her body. 

She wore a white singlet and pants underneath. On her right shoulder, Uster spied another tattoo. It was done in black ink and was three letters, Osk-Trill-Osk. 

“Another tattoo?” Uster asked, peering closely at the mark “What does ‘Oto’ mean? Is it an acronym? Oh, it’s not a boyfriend is it? Because most people end up regretting those kind of tattoos.”

Chessa snorted at that “No! Actually, it’s my family’s brand.” Chessa shrugged, before she started to idly tug at her hair. “It’s also my surname. I’m Chessa Oto.”

It was at that moment that Uster realised that until now, neither of them had divulged their surnames. It was strange how little it had seemed to matter until now.

“…Pulastra,” Uster grunted, looking away.

“What?” 

“That’s my surname. Pulastra.” 

Chessa shot him a friendly smirk “This kind of makes our meeting official, don’t you think? Now that we know each other’s full names? Nice to meet you, Uster Pulastra.”

Beneath his helmet, Uster offered a smile of his own, even though he knew that Chessa would not see it “Likewise, Chessa Oto.” 

It was perhaps a silly, tacky thing to do, but nonetheless, he held out his hand for her. With no hesitation at all, she reached out and shook it.


End file.
